


The Family Begins

by MistoElectra



Series: I Don't Need Luck, I Have You [1]
Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Gay Space Dads, Gen, M/M, Space family, baby bodhi, baze is used to chirrut bringing home strays but not usually human ones, bodhi is chirrut and bazes new adoptive son, like seriously he smol and pure
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-06
Updated: 2017-01-06
Packaged: 2018-09-15 04:27:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9219041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MistoElectra/pseuds/MistoElectra
Summary: Or: Baze is accustomed to coming home to finding strays in their living quarters, but he is admittedly a little surprised to find that Chirrut has brought home a small human one.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rogue-one-aviator](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=rogue-one-aviator).



> So the idea for this came from a roleplay AU devised on tumblr by myself (thefxrceiswithme) and rogue-one-aviator (bae <3) and thus it has spiralled this and many others.  
> Part 1 of the 'I Don't Need Luck, I Have You' series.

It wasn’t unusual to find children running around the Temple of the Kyber. Many children were brought to the Temple by their families to train with the Guardians, others were abandoned at the Temple steps because it was widely acknowledged that there they would be cared for and raised and given a better chance at life. That alongside the fact that the market place children sometimes ended up mingling with the Temple children meant that the corridors were often filled with young people. After all, it was how he had ended up at the Temple, Chirrut too.

It also wasn’t unusual for Baze to return to the living quarters he shared with Chirrut and find unusual things. It had been standard ever since they were children, only acolytes, training and practice sparring against each other. He would come back and there would be something different. Like the time he’d come back to find the blind boy nursing an injured mooka, the small avian creature tucked into his arms. He’d found it in the market place apparently, and of course had been unable to leave it there. He’d nursed the animal back to health, and they’d given it to one of the elders as a gift. After that it had been fairly common to see it in the archives.

There had also been the time when he’d returned to find the younger monk nursing a black eye and split lip, from where he’d gotten into a scuffle with some unfair traders. Typical Chirrut, getting into scuffles like that, fighting for what he believed was right. It was one of the many things that had endeared Chirrut to him in the first place. So he’d knelt beside him, carefully taking the cloth and dabbing the blood away from his top lip as Chirrut muttered.

“You should’ve seen the other guy. No, really, I want to know what damage I caused...”

That was one of things about Chirrut that could be both endearing and annoying: the blind jokes.

Now that he thought about it though, all these things happened when he left the man along for longer periods of time.

Perhaps it was a better idea to just not leave him alone.

This time really took the biscuit though.

He’d been on a short pilgrimage outside the city, only away for a few days but he was definitely looking forward to his own bed and the fireplace in their living quarters as opposed to sand and camping and the cold winds outside the city. What he’d expected to see when he opened the door was the fire crackling as it usually way, and probably Chirrut meditating or practicing his forms or maybe cooking. It was about that time of day.

What he did see however was the fire crackling as expected. Chirrut was sitting cross-legged beside it, stoking the flames and yes, cooking as expected. It smelt divine too. The one thing out of place however was the small child by Chirrut’s side, lying curled in blankets with a head on his companion’s lap. He seemed to be fast asleep, messy dark hair falling across the parts of his face that weren’t obscured by blankets.

With a precursory glance, he didn’t seem to be injured, so Baze was rather confused.

Why was there a child in their living quarters?

Dropping his bag by the door, he crossed the room towards them, resting a hand affectionately on top of Chirrut’s head. It was an almost traditional gesture between the two of them, further confirmation of who it was for Chirrut and reassuring in times of stress (like the time Baze had fretted over making his own weapon) or pain (like the time the measles had swept through the city, leaving half the acolytes bed bound, including Chirrut). The other smiled up at him, that sunny smile that always caused Baze to pause just so he could soak in the pure joy emanating from Chirrut, the optimism that seemed to flow so naturally from him. Blinking, he took the chance to get another look at the boy. He couldn’t be more than about seven, skinny and from what he could see, dressed in the tattered rags of the market place. An orphan most likely, most of the children there were, bar those who were the children of the vendors. Baze couldn’t help but wonder if his companion was in the habit of picking up strays and he voiced as much as Chirrut reached down to pat the boy’s hair, carefully pulling it away from his face and humming softly before raising his head with the perfectly innocent expression that he’d mastered when they were nine.

“Are we taking in strays now then?” Baze asked gruffly, quirking an eyebrow that he knew Chirrut couldn’t see but that he had the feeling he would sense. 

“This is Bodhi,” Chirrut responded calmly before turning his attention back to the stew over the fire. An empty bowl- practically licked clean- told him that the boy had already eaten, but it seemed like Chirrut hadn’t yet, and he wondered if the other had known he was on his way back or if it was just coincidence. 

“Bodhi?”

“Yes, Bodhi. Bodhi Rook. He’s seven years old and he’s an orphan.”

“I could have told you as much myself.”

A tsk.

“I met him in the marketplace a few months ago. I’ve been making sure he gets enough food. He’s a very sweet boy.”

And like that, he knew it was hopeless. He didn’t even have to look down at Chirrut’s face to know that there would be a pleading expression plastered across it. His tone of voice said everything. Chirrut had grown attached to the boy and that was that. The Guardians tended not to have families. They were not Jedi, it was not in their code, but nonetheless, it was almost an unspoken rule. Some few did, but it was rather unlikely. Then again, he and Chirrut had always been rule breakers, and while it was discouraged, it was not forbidden. Neither of them had any long term experience with families. Baze had been a Temple orphan and Chirrut had come at the age of seven after his father’s death.

Sighing softly, he knelt by Chirrut’s side, reaching for his hand and giving it a gentle squeeze. He found it difficult to say no to Chirrut at the best of times, but particularly on occasions like this, when his kind, gentle heart was so strong and he just genuinely wanted to help people. 

“We’ll need to get another bed. There’s not enough room in ours for him as well,” he answered with a small smile, unable to miss the beam of delight that practically emitted from Chirrut at the news. Leaning over, he brushed his lips against the crown of Chirrut’s head lightly before redirecting his attention and carding a gentle hand through the boy’s hair. The gesture seemed to wake him, and he stirred, blinking awake slowly and with sleep still in his eyes.

“Hello, little one,” he greeted softly, with a kind smile, “I am Baze.”

Bodhi blinked slowly, uncertainty clear but then he seemed to get a sudden burst of courage, shifting into an upright position and holding his hand out to shake, “I’m Bodhi!”

Biting back a chuckle, Baze shook the boy’s hand, his own large one practically encasing the tiny one, before ruffling his hair, emitting a playful cry of outrage from the boy who batted at his hand.

“Welcome to the family, Bodhi. I think you’re going to fit right in.”


End file.
